Sores
by Maaya
Summary: Fuji doesn’t just like wasabi. He uses it.


**Notes: **Weird. PG. Oneshot. Gen. Supernatural.

Loosely working with a PoT/Mushishi concept. (You don't have to have seen Mushishi, really, though.)

**Sores  
by Maaya **

----

**prologue**

And Syuusuke cocks his head thinking, this isn't real, his sister predicts futures--this must run in the family, am I mad, no this is real I think, no _is_ it?

He is eleven and is starting to see things.

Going mad, probably, everything that is sensible about him tells him so. (How much of him is sensible any longer, he wonders.)

It doesn't start immediately, rather sneaks onto his being and there are things only he can see, sometimes everyday objects like a stray, mysterious seed appearing on the dinner table, or a dried, oddly coloured leaf, or a wooden stick covered in odd words standing upright in the middle of the park.

Syuusuke tells Yuuta, who gains a wary look over the years and tells him to stop, it isn't funny. Syuusuke tells Yumiko, who is more than interested and probably knows more than she should about it already, because she tells him it is very unusual and he should--_not_--speak about it to other people--_unless_-- he finds it very important. Yumiko also tells fortunes, but tells him that Syuusuke's is just as clear as it is impossible to see. Lively, she says, and he has to settle with that.

Syuusuke can't say that he is happy about it. He is eleven and is starting to see flickering sources of light that reminds him of fireflies, only with strange contours, and no one else can see them.

Then his family moves from Chiba, he attends Seishun Gakuen, and he adapts somewhat. What other choice does he have? (Though Syuusuke misses the silvery water spirits he could see when he went to the beach. The spirits he encounters here in Tokyo are lively and shrewd and comes in a horrifying variety that he has to learn all over again.)

----

**the story**

For the third time in half-an-hour, Tezuka has to loosen his shoelaces and step out of his shoe. A small stone, sharp-pointed, is imbedded in his sock and he rubs it carefully before it falls out. Impatience nags in his throat. Third time. He hasn't walked on new asphalt, or a gravelled road. The grounds in the tennis courts are as well-kept as ever.

"Eh, Tezuka. That's the third time now, isn't it?" Fuji, says from behind him. Tezuka stands up and flicks the stone away. It is small enough to bounce a few times before settling.

Fuji follows it with his eyes. His expression, Tezuka thinks, might be sharper than usual and even less readable. "It must really like you," Fuji continues.

Tezuka gives him a look, because there is really no other way of dealing with Fuji.

When Tezuka gets home, a stone has torn a hole in his sock, and there are traces of blood.

----

Syuusuke's sister is cooking and it is just the two of them at the table tonight. It means some experimenting with French food (successfully, if a bit oilier than Syuusuke believes it is supposed to be), eating in front of the TV and some foreign movie his sister had gotten her hands on one way or another.

Syuusuke knows that she is spoiling him in a moment that might be insecure (no mother, no father, no Yuuta) but it is nice nonetheless.

He senses something just when a vampire on the screen makes a cliché style appearance and he is swallowing a mouthful of water. He starts coughing helplessly. Yumiko pats him on the back. It calms down after a while and when Yumiko asks is he is okay, Syuusuke shrugs

He knows that she knows that there is something wrong.

He thinks about calling Tezuka.

Their sibling-evening eventually slows down and ends.

----

Tezuka barely recognizes Fuji's number on his cell through his blurry eyes. "Yes"

"Um. Tezuka."

There is a pause. Tezuka thinks about hanging up and returning to sleep. It is past midnight, he can't make out what it says on his alarm clock without his glasses on but the room is completely dark and the air outside his covers cold. (Colder than usual, freezing, perhaps he is falling sick.) He hears Fuji breathe on the other end.

"Do you happen to have some wasabi at home?"

If it had been anyone other than Fuji, Tezuka _would_ have hung up. But that doesn't mean he dignifies the question with an answer.

Another pause.

"Never mind then. See you tomorrow, right?"

A click and silence and Tezuka can't fall asleep again for the next two hours. The room gets colder.

----

Eiji keeps sniffing in the air and his face is getting closer and closer to Syuusuke's pocket for every second.

"Wasabi," he says, accusingly. "You smell of wasabi."

"My sister and I experimented with recipes yesterday," Syuusuke shrugs easily, wondering if wasabi really does smell. But Eiji has amazing senses overall so maybe he ought not to worry.

He is then flooded with toothpaste recommendations.

----

Five times within ten minutes, and there is not even a stone. Tezuka removes his sock to have a look but finds nothing other than a small swelling (perhaps some sort of infection?) and some dried blood on the sock.

It looks like it is going to rain; perhaps he ought to interrupt morning practice. The air is heavy and his head is aching.

Fuji suddenly takes a seat beside him on the bench. Tezuka is retrying his shoelaces and eyes the other boy just a little warily. Fuji is fumbling for something in his pocket.

"Here."

Tezuka blinks as a bag of unidentifiable sweets is more or less showed into his face.

"No thanks," he tries.

Though he eventually gives up because Fuji is _smiling_ and Tezuka is not _stupid_.

He coughs, and accepts the proffered water bottle.

"Wasabi drops," Fuji announces cheerfully. "Have another one."

Tezuka sees Oishi looking at them strangely.

This time, his 'no' is firmer.

Suddenly, _again_, there is something in his shoe. Fuji smiles at him. Tezuka unties the laces and--

His sock is red with blood. A stone falls out.

Fuji looks at him, wide-eyed. "That is some sore you've got, Tezuka." He leans down to pick up the stone. "Told you it must like you."

----

"What's that?" Yumiko leans over his shoulder. Syuusuke is resting his elbows on the table, letting himself slide down until his chin touches the table-top only a few centimetres away from the stone. It's brownish and flaked with dried blood, still.

"I don't know," he replies. "Parasite, I think."

Yumiko hums and leans even closer, her hand resting on his back. "Then that really is blood?"

"It liked Tezuka." Syuusuke smiles. "But it didn't like wasabi."

"What are you going to do with it?"

Syuusuke shrugs. "Throw it away?"

"Then I'll take care of it. I know someone who might deserve it."

"It's yours."

----

**end**

…no comment. You can go ahead and scream what the hell and bloody murder.


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